There was something so satisfying about the first sip of hot coffee. When your chosen beverage cooled down to the right temperature, it wasn't too hot to pass your lips and touch your tongue, so the warmth trailed down your throat along with the taste of the brew hitting your tastebuds. A smile always painted on your lips as you held the cup in your hands, pleased with the taste of it every time. Well that, and Tom was paying.
"Hmm, I love when my fake boyfriend buys me coffee." You teased, tilting your head at him.
Tom was sat across the table, his legs a bit spread while he held his own cup of coffee. His smile was so sweet and friendly. You could tell he had day two hair, seeing all his curls look a little more stiff, but he never had to try hard to look nice, something you wished for.
"Don't forget the blueberry muffin." He pointed out before taking a chunk off of it.
You giggled, "Thanks, but you didn't have to.. Especially after the last three times you have."
"No, no. It's my treat." Tom said, subtly chewing the rest of his food.
After the weekend passed, you and Tom decided to meet at the coffee shop that was a few blocks away from both of your apartments. It was easier to get to, plus the atmosphere of soft jazz and smell of coffee was more comforting than the utter, and sometimes awkward, silence of the library. With the location, you also changed the times since Tom's practices were switched from the afternoons to the mornings so you met after three and stayed till seven, but it slowly got later each time you met.
"You think you're ready for your exam next week?" You asked, leaning on the table.
"Yeah, I think so."
"C'mon, say it like you mean it." You teased.
Tom chuckled, "I'm just a bad test taker. I can know the material like the back of my hand, but then I walk into the room and my mind is blank."
"Yet you play in front of hundreds of people, expecting you to hit every ball thrown at you."
"And I always impress." He smirked.
"I'll have to see it to believe it."
"You'd come to one of my games?"
"I would be a bad fake girlfriend if I didn't.. So, of course." You grinned.
He appreciated your quick wit, not was a smile or nod in response awkward, but you kept up with his playful cockiness.
You two studied for another hour and you were on your third coffee of the night, fifth of the entire day. As you raised the to-go lid to your lips, Tom chuckled as he tapped his pen against his notebook.
"You know caffeine addiction is a real thing, right?"
"I like caffeine like it's oxygen." You beamed at him before taking another sip and he rolled his eyes with that perfect smile on his lips.
Before you could say anything else, your phone screen lit up as it vibrated against your papers. You furrowed your eyebrows as you picked it up, seeing it was a text from Haley.
"Had to go home because of a family emergency so don't freak if I'm not there by the time you go to bed. Love ya." She signed with a few emojis and you immediately texted your condolences back, telling her you'll call her later.
Watching you check your phone, Tom turned on his and saw the time. He didn't want to be too tired for practice tomorrow, but hanging out with you was so fun.
"Hey, I gotta get going. I can drive you home." He offered.
You nodded, "Really? Thanks."
"Anytime, babe."
Your heart fluttered and you weren't sure if it was because you'd never been called that or because it was coming from Tom. Before diving into this or even knowing Tom, you admitted he was kind of cute, but you couldn't help but think that you'd be better friends. Everything worked so well between you two and you got along so well that if actual feelings came into the picture, it would get awkward and your friendship would fall apart.
The car ride was like a full blown concert, both of you singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody and trying to hit every high and low note. Once those glorious seven minutes ended, Tom pulled up in front of your apartment building and you two let the rest of your laughs out.
"It's so nice to hear Queen through clear speakers." You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear as you caught your breath.
"What? Your car's speakers don't work?"
"Well that and she's been through a tough fourteen, going on fifteen, years. It's kind of like a family heirloom." You joked, your cheeks heated.
"The poor thing, she's probably shot to hell." Tom furrowed his eyebrows, his hand hanging over his steering wheel.
"She is. Poor, old Cece. But, my dad said I can start looking for another used car, as long as it's a reasonable price." You nodded.
"Have you found any lucky ones?"
"No. Well, I haven't done much looking because I've been so busy and my car door won't even open half the time." You didn't mean to complain but Tom shrugged.
"Why don't I take you? I can drive you. Give you a second opinion, make sure you're getting a fair deal.. Don't want anyone ripping my fake girlfriend off."
You and Tom humored the whole fake dating situation by reminding each other of your fabricated relationship. Although you never really sat down and talked about it, everything was comfortable so neither of you questioned.
"You're such a dreamboat, I'm sure your pretty brown eyes will make him give me a free one." You teased as you opened the door.
"So, is tomorrow okay?" You asked after you closed the door, the window already open for you to lean into.
"Yeah, but after practice. Is it okay if you meet me at the field around.. four-ish?" His face scrunched up as he tried to remember if that time would be okay, wondering if his coach would make them practice an hour longer.
"Sure, sounds good." You grinned, taking a step back from the window.
"It's a date, babe." Tom winked, leaning over his console and you rolled your eyes.
"In your dreams, Holland." You scrunch your nose, heat rising to your cheeks again.
Tom showed his charming smile before you turned around, walking into your apartment complex and waiting till he could see you get on the elevator through the doors. As his gripped his hands around his steering wheel, Tom bit the inside of his cheek and couldn't shake the tingle he felt up his spine. His face was getting hot, but he didn't want to admit it was because you made him flustered but it was simply the heat that was let in from the open window.
You spent the rest of your night, curled in your fuzzy, grey blanket and watching another episode of your favorite sitcom on Netflix. Not only was the blanket comforting, but the Ben and Jerry's you were halfway through and loving every spoonful. You scraped up another bit of ice cream in your silver spoon, but instead it dropped right on your shirt and a groan passed your lips.
After pausing your show, you get up and quickly change out of your newly stained t-shirt. When you tossed it on your laundry basket, it was instead the top of a mound of dirty clothes you procastinated actually doing. You knew you were gonna be up late anyways so you grabbed your basket and headed to the washing machine in the next room.
Ten minutes went by and there was no kickstart to the washing machine, resorting in you going to the somewhat mysterious laundromat that was only fifteen minutes away. Following a series of groans and panting down the stairs and out of your building, you reached your car and the door actually opened. Something must be playing in your favor.
As you drove to the laundromat, you turned on the radio to interrupt the silence of midnight. When you pushed the on button, the first song that played was the middle of "Rocket Man" by Elton John. The corners of your mouth couldn't hold back as you remembered this was Tom's favorite song, at least that's what he told you. It was the night in the bar, Tom had four beers in him and it was after your fake dating pact was made. His face was red, but his arm was around you and the other around his friend, and there he knew the lyrics like the back of his hand.
That night was amazing. Not because of the fake dating situation, but it was just fun hanging out with Tom. He was a great friend... just a friend.
Before you pondered on that thought, your car's engine started to die and your dash lights were flickering until you came to a complete halt.
"No, no, no!" You tried to crank it back, but you were stuck in the middle of the street and you could feel the humidity start to enter your car.
You quickly got out of your car and luckily no one was around, especially this late at night in your small college town. As usual, you popped open the hood and checked for overheating, but the engine was barely warm when you carefully placed your hand on top of it.
12:39AM and AAA came to the rescue, having to tow your car to the nearby mechanic and you sat on the curb with your laundry basket next to you.
"Do you want a ride with us or is someone picking you up?" The man asked you, looking at his clipboard before clicking his pen and sliding it into his shirt pocket.
"Um.."
Haley was out of town. Your study buddies weren't really your close friends. So, your last ditch effort was Tom. Not the worst, possibly your best person to need in this crisis.
"One second." You excused him as you pulled your phone out.
Tom's heavy eyes fluttered, his hand under his chin and his head repeatly dropping. He was exhausted from studying almost any hour he didn't have practice, but he was scared out of his mind for this upcoming final. He wanted school to be over already, not having to maintain his 3.5 GPA, feeling the pressure on his chest and shoulders not only for everyone watching him in the stands, but his father.
He was trying to speak, repeating the definitions on his paper but it came out as a mumble before his head dropped again. Tom felt relaxed until the sound of his phone's ringtone spiked his heart rate and made him panic, as if someone spilled ice down his shirt. He quickly searched through his papers, finally finding his phone and juggling it before he answered it.
"Hello?" It was obvious he just woke up.
"Hey Tom, sorry to call so late. But, I had car trouble and I need a ride.." You asked.
It took him a few seconds to comprehend what you said, but the silence made you feel silly for asking.
"Sorry, I know you were probably asleep, but I can get a cab or some-"
"No! No, I'm on my way. Where are you?" Tom was on his feet already, grabbing his hoodie and keys in his free hand. He couldn't help but grab the strawberry flavored poptart off his kitchen counter before struggling out the door, not even locking it from how worried he felt.
Not even five minutes later, Tom pulled up next to the tow truck that's lights were flashing orange. You were still sat on the sidewalk, dark circles under your eyes and your hair in a bun because the humidity was killing you. Tom parked and hurried out to see if you were okay, remembering the word "trouble" but nothing around it from how tired he was.
"Hey, are you okay?" He asked, giving you a hand to get up.
You nodded, wrapping your hand around his as he lifted you on your feet. You couldn't look in his eyes, only because you were holding back your tears from being so exhausted of these things happening to you. This was just the straw that broke the camel's back.
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, "Hey.. What's wrong? The car will be okay."
"No, no. I'm just.. Tired." You pulled away from him, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.
Tom bit his bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do because he couldn't just drive you home when you seemed this upset. After he told the tow man that you were okay, they exchanged the car's location details before it was towed down the street.
"Well, the laundromat is like a block away so I'm gonna go. But, thanks." You sniffled.
"I'll drive you there. C'mon, since it's only a block."
You didn't really want to argue, not even playfully, but at least Tom sensed the tone.
"Okay.." You grinned, tasting a salty tear that passed your lips.
He rubbed over your shoulders and back, leading you to the car with your, still, messy and dirty basket of clothes. You didn't bother to buckle your seatbelt, trying to get yourself together while Tom drove. When you saw the laundromat's big, bright letters above the doors, you were getting ready to get out but Tom drove right past it.
"Tom, we just passed it." You said, watching the laundromat slowly get smaller in the side view mirror.
"I know.." He said, a small smile on his face.
"So.. Can you turn around? Please?"
"I'm taking you somewhere better."
"C'mon, Tom.." You moaned, leaning back in your seat.
You truly wondered where he was taking you, wondering if he was taking you to a different laundromat or one of his friend's apartment where you could do laundry. It made it no better that it was almost 1:30AM.
"This is kidnapping unless you tell me where you're taking me." You turned to him, pouty and he chuckled.
"You're so dramatic."
"Tom, I'm serious. Please just give me a hint."
Before he could answer, he pulled into a parking space that was in front of a 7/11. You furrowed your eyebrows as he turned his engine off, sitting there and looking over at you with his friendly smile.
"I am going to get you whatever you want, including a slushie then we're gonna sit in the trunk of the car and you're gonna tell me what's going on." He informed you his elaborate plan of the early morning.
"Tom, It's almost 2AM. I have smelly laundry, no car, and-"
"Uh huh, save it for the trunk."
You humored him, a grin slowly pulling at the corners of your mouth but you were almost positive it was from how tired you were and this was the first stage of extreme fatigue.
"Fine.. Whatever I want?" You tilted your head at him.
"Anything for you, smartiepants."
Two packets of red vines, sour skittles, three rolls of starbursts and two large blue raspberry slushies later, you were sat in the open trunk of Tom's Nissan Xterra, looking out to the empty street and the noise there was were the crickets and generator of the street light a few feet away from the parking lot.
Your back was leaned against Tom's baseball backpack while he sat closest to the bumper, his legs hanging off the tailgate while he was sipping on his slushie. While you chewed on your third piece of licorice, you noticed how the silence between you two wasn't bothering you. It was somewhat comforting to just have someone there and not having to explain yourself or how you feel immediately.
"You okay now?" Tom asked, his voice low.
You nodded, "Yeah.. Kind of."
You moved on to open your box of skittles and Tom grinned, glad that he could help somehow. After you poured a handful of skittles into his cupped hand, you picked out of the ones in the box and sat Indian style so you could give him a little more room to sit further in the trunk.
"It's been.. A stressful few days. Like, you know that feeling when everything is on your shoulders and- and you feel like you can't breathe. I just want time to stop for a minute sometimes, ya know?" You asked rhetorically, but Tom could agree on the feeling.
"Yeah.. But, you figure out stuff to take you away from that." Tom shrugged.
"Like fake dating?" You jeered, moving onto your slushie.
Tom smirked, "Never a bad option. But, I mean, what do you like?"
He put emphasis on the "you" of the sentence, trying to make sure you were focusing on yourself.
"..I don't know. Stuff. Lots of stuff."
"Wow, that's so specific." Tom's sarcastic tone was hinted.
"Okay, well.. I like watching TV. Sometimes it's fun to just go to another world that doesn't even exist." You thought you sounded incredibly dorky, making your cheeks heat up and look down at your lap of snacks.
"I get that. It's like how I feel about baseball. I go into this different.. zone. Like whenever I go to the batting cages, there's no crowds and no fans and no one to feel like you're disappointing." Tom vented, something you weren't expecting to hear but it was nice to know how he was feeling.
"Well.. you're not disappointing anyone. I can promise you that." You reassured him, smiling at him.
Tom blushed a little, seeing his baseball cap next to your leg and he leaned over, picking it up by the bill and placing it on top of your head so it was backwards. His team number was above the hole and his last name written along the adjustable strap.
"You can do laundry at my place, if you want." He offered and your eyes lit up.
"Really? It's almost like three in the morning."
"Crash on the futon. I don't mind."
"Thanks." You smiled, leaning up and you kissed his cheek.
You weren't sure if you were delirious by this point, but you didn't think there was a problem doing that. Tom was a bit taken aback by your gesture, kind of frozen for a second until he looked into your pretty eyes.
"I'm not sure what I like better. Hot coffee in the afternoon or slushies at the crack of dawn." You joked and he chuckled, a bit more nervous.
"You're a caffeine addict, you'll drink or eat anything with more sugar than needed."
You guys spend another half hour getting through your snacks and venting until the early morning birds started chirping and you both knew you needed to get back to Tom's place.
For some reason, you were expecting Tom to live in his frat house and you suddenly thought how you would be able to avoid Bradley if he had been there as well. So when you passed by the main campus road, you were relieved to say the least. Instead, Tom pulled into a parking garage and parked in his designated spot.
"How much do mommy and daddy give you?" You teased him.
"It's my Uncle's loft. He bought it because he comes out here for games, but since him and my aunt moved to Europe, him and my dad agreed that I could live here till I graduate." Tom explained as you two got out of his car.
"Does your family come for every game?" You asked, making sure you didn't drop any socks as you walked away from his car.
Tom pushed his lock button, "Um, yeah. It's kind of hard to not make them come."
"Do you have any siblings?"
Tom jokingly scoffed, "How could you not know anything about me when we've been dating for so long?"
You rolled your eyes while Tom chuckled as the two of you walking toward the elevator.
"I have four brothers and a little sister, she just turned six last month. My mom and dad are Mark and Kierra. We also have a dog, Apollo. I could go on about my family, but I'm sure you'll meet them at my games." Tom nodded, pushing the up button.
"Oh yeah, I have to make an appearance at your games."
"Yeah, you can even wear my jersey. Make our act more convincing." Tom smiled.
The two of you stepped onto the elevator and went up to the top floor. When the doors opened, it was a fairly nice apartment building, well at least better than yours. Tom's loft was at the end of the hall, big silver numbers saying 602 above the peephole. After he opened the unlocked door, he flipped on the row of lights and you were almost in awe of the place.
"The washer and dryer are near the bathroom, the hall next to the kitchen." Tom said, peeling off his jacket and your eyes were still wandering around till you took the direction that Tom told you. He threw his keys in the basket on the counter before he went to the linen closet in the bathroom. He collected some sheets and covers with a small comforter his mom had stored for him at the beginning of the year.
After you dumped in your clothes, you set the washer and came out to the futon next to bed set up with mismatched sheets and Tom, changed into a t-shirt and basketball shorts, was searching through his dresser drawers.
"Thanks again for letting me spend the night and doing laundry." You grinned, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
"No need to thank me, I owe it to you." He smiled back, walking toward you with some clothes in his hands.
"What's this?" You chuckled, slowly grabbing them out of his hands and unfolding them.
"Some pajamas, I don't know if you wanted to change or not so.." He trailed.
You had sweat through your clothes while you were stranded in your car so, this was greatly needed.
"Thank you, dreamboat." You giggled, suddenly feeling how heavy your eyes were.
After you got dressed in his clothes in the bathroom, you quickly through yours in with your running load and walked back into the room and seeing Tom laying on the futon, under the sheets already.
"Hey.. that's my bed." You pouted.
"Nah, you can sleep in mine. It's more comfortable."
"..You know you're not actually my boyfriend, right?" You chuckled, cocking an eyebrow and your weight on one leg.
"Hey, you had a rough night. Take the bed, you stubborn mule." He beamed before throwing a pillow at you and you giggled as you caught it.
"You can throw a eighty-five mile curb bar but not a pillow? I might reconsider my fake boyfriend options." You threw it back at him and he caught it, wrapping his arms around it.
"You looked up my stats?" He asked, his eyebrows raised and you blushed a little, kind of red in the face.
"I was just doing research, okay? You said as you walked over to the light switch, turning them all off.
You walked back over to Tom's bed, pulling down the bed sheets and slipping into them. You didn't want to admit how great the scent of them were, the familiar smell on his pine-scented cologne on his pillow as you snuggled into it.
"Goodnight, darling." You teased, tightening your hand's grip around his sheet.
"Goodnight, babygirl." He groaned.
Babygirl. You didn't mind that one either.